All My Love
by pathvain aelien
Summary: Bilbo celebrates his first Yule after leaving the Shire, with a little help from the Elves.


Title: All My Love

Author: PathvainAelien

Contact:

Rating: G

A/N: Bilbo's first year in Rivendell, according to the Tale of Years, was in 3002. Bilbo is 112, and here are the ages of the Hobbits left behind: Frodo is 34, Merry is 20, Sam is 22, and Pippin is 12. Also, the Elves did not celebrate Christmas, and thus had no word for it. In a letter from Tolkien, however, he stated that "meriu sa haryalye alasse no vanyalye Ambdrello" could be substituted for "I wish you a merry Christmas." As a result, I have used that phrase herein.

Disclaimer: As usual, I own nothing. I am only borrowing them for Yule, I promise. Thanks to Gayalondiel for the opportunity! This is written for her Yuletide challenge, so here is the link to the other stories: 

"Most definitely out of character."

"Highly unnatural of him, indeed."

"Should I…?

"I think I shall."

The two voices, one deep and sort of grumbly and the other neither high nor low, but infinitely pleasant, eyed Bilbo Baggins from a distance. The old and wizened Hobbit face was bent low, as always, over a journal. However, Gandalf and Elrond could both see that his eyes were misty, as if caught in some memory, and as a further testament to his daydreaming, his blue feathered quill was being absently twirled between two fingers.

Seeing Bilbo lost "with his head stuck in the clouds" (as Lobelia Sackville-Baggins would have snapped) was not at all unusual. The oddness of it came from the downward-drooping mouth, the sadness in his eyes, and the further wrinkling of the space around his eyes. Gandalf the Grey hefted his staff, adorned his pointy hat, and began walking the short distance towards Bilbo and the bench he occupied.

He, too, was lost in his thoughts, struggling to remember the last time he had seen Bilbo looking this depressed. And especially in Rivendell, of all places! Gandalf scratched at his long grey beard, and then the penny dropped with him. Perhaps being in Rivendell was the problem after all-after all, besides short journeys now and then, Bilbo typically lived in Bag-End with his "nephew," Frodo Baggins. Hobbits are a cheery sort of creature, but they do require several things that are necessary for their contentment-ample food and drink, pipe-weed, peace and quiet, and most importantly, family. Even strange old Hobbits such as Bilbo (as half of the Shire would have thought of him) needed to be around family around Yuletide, and this was to be Bilbo's first away from the Shire. 'Yule was only three weeks away,' Gandalf thought. "Too bad they don't celebrate that here," he muttered.

Bilbo almost dropped his quill as Gandalf abruptly sat beside him. He clutched at his chest in a sort of mocked fright.

"Gandalf! There you go again, sneaking up one me. You should announce yourself properly before you scare an old Hobbit half to death!" But despite his seeming ire at being startled, Bilbo grinned widely at his old friend.

"Perhaps you should pick a better spot to drift off," Gandalf returned as he patted his pocket down for a pipe, only to remember that he was currently out of Old Toby. He was due for a visit to Hobbiton soon, best stock up on it then. With a sigh, he returned the fine wooden pipe to his pocket.

"Drift off? I'll have you know that I was thinking up a passage for my book," Bilbo said indignantly. As Gandalf raised his bushy eyebrows, Bilbo sighed. "All right. I might have been thinking about the Shire," he finally said. He looked out over the vastness of Rivendell, at the beautiful waterfall over sharp rocks. He loved being here…truly he did. But he was the only Hobbit in Rivendell, and he sometimes missed certain traditions, as well as certain people.

"Is it Frodo you're worried about, or the fact that this will be the first Yule you've spent without Old Toby and the Gaffer's home brew?" Gandalf asked, hoping for a smile. He got one, a thin one, but a smile nonetheless.

"I do miss that stuff," Bilbo joked thoughtfully. Gandalf stood, and offered Bilbo a hand. Bilbo grasped it, then closed his journal and picked up his quill. Gandalf walked him into the dining Hall, then declined a late (and second helping of) lunch.

"No, no, must be off. I have something that needs seeing to," he demurred. Bilbo, already in the middle of eating a scone, looked at him suspiciously.

"What are you up to, Gandalf?" At Gandalf's surprised (and guilty) look, Bilbo huffed. "I may be old, but I _am _a Baggins," he said, as if his lineage made him ever so much cleverer than the other families of the Shire. Gandalf thought of some of the other families and figured that Bilbo might have a point.

"Well, I suppose you will just have to act surprised, Mr. Baggins," Gandalf rumbled as he strode from the hall, leaving Bilbo smirking behind him.

Exactly three weeks later, on the eve of Yule, Gandalf galloped his horse back from the Shire. He had been cutting it close, but after all, what were friends for? A few hours after his arrival in Rivendell, the Dining Hall was filled with Elves. They were a bit dubious about this Yule tradition, but were willing to try anything to cheer Bilbo up. That, and if Elrond and Lady Arwen were going to celebrate, they might as well see that the fuss was about.

Minutes after the final preparations, a blindfolded Bilbo was led in by Elrohir. When he was at last allowed to look, he beheld a wonderful site-a Hall full of Elves, surrounded by the unmistakable scent and sight of pipe-weed smoke. Bilbo looked at Gandalf in bewilderment, and Gandalf was hard-pressed to hide his mirth. When Bilbo spied the Gaffer's home brew-in extremely large amounts-being drunk with apparent relish by the Elves, he could hold out no longer. Bilbo and Gandalf laughed heartily together. As Bilbo turned to thank him, Gandalf held something out to him. Not the Gaffer's brew, not Old Toby, something even better. Bilbo's eyes widened in his astonishment as he took in Frodo's clear, carefully written script. However brief it was, it warmed his heart-and moistened his eyes.

_Dearest Uncle,_

_Gandalf seems to think that you are in need of cheering up. We were under short notice, but have tried to make your first Yule away from home more than satisfactory. Sam persuaded his Gaffer into making up some of his home brew, and Merry and I procured the pipe-weed. Pippin says to tell you that he helped too, and if you should see another dragon and need any help, that he is a stout little Hobbit indeed. Have a merry Yule, and we all hope to see you again soon._

_All my love,_

_Frodo Baggins_

Bilbo wiped his steaming eyes as he pocketed the parchment-the best Yule present he believed he had ever received. He then, with a blooming smile, accepted a draught of home brew from Gandalf, and a pouch of Old Toby from Elrond.

"Happy Yule," he said to them, and they both smiled back.

"Meriu sa haryalye alasse no vanyalye Ambdrello," said Elrond immediately, with a smile.

Not a bad Yule after all, all things considered. He had-and always would have, a truly wonderful Yule gift: all of Frodo's love.


End file.
